


Pause

by skywaterblue



Category: West Wing
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Episode Related, Fifteen Minute Fic, Gen, Subtext
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-13
Updated: 2010-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-11 01:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skywaterblue/pseuds/skywaterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Fifteen Minute Fic involving Donna and Amy's infamous scene at the end of "Twenty Five".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pause

**Author's Note:**

> Written for MichelleK's birthday, circa 2004.

It was the sort of thing you said, when you wanted to cut someone open and lay them bare. 'And so you see,' you thought, 'that I am not nearly as drunk as you think I am. And that there's no lie you could tell me I couldn't see through.' You clink your bottle against the line of bottles you had created, and felt the satisfaction of check and mate.

Donna appeared to be frozen, a stray hand reaching to brush her hair back before the interminably slow turn. "Of course not," and her voice trembles and wavers in the end. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

You look up and fix on her blue eyes. She has the courage to look back, challenging you, and you find yourself in the unexpected position of hurting. She's Donnatella Moss, corn-fed and straight from the fields. Josh Lyman's waifish pet project. She's supposed to crumble now, and confess her sins.

It wasn't supposed to mean anything to you, and everything to her.

"Of course not." You echo, at a loss for words suddenly. Each one tumbles out so slowly.

She smiles then, looks back at the little date planner she holds. "Josh and I are good friends, Amy. Rest assured, you're not the first to imply that we're anything other than that." Donna produces a pencil, and starts to jot down the details of the meeting you had been discussing, and her words swim around your head.

In silence, you watch as the papers on the table soak up the moisture off the bottle.


End file.
